


White Dress

by tiedyeflag



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Voxman, Wedding, bridal dresses, the voxy bunch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiedyeflag/pseuds/tiedyeflag
Summary: Boxy goes shopping for something special to wear to his and PV's wedding. The results are unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	White Dress

**Author's Note:**

> It's like midnight and I haven't proofread this, but I just wanna share the fluff. You're welcome.

“Darrel quit poking me!”

“I’m not! You’re poking me!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!!”

Boxman sighed as Darrel and Shannon bickered amongst themselves. The rest of his robotic children were no help, wandering around the tux and dress rental store either in awe or confusion, equally oblivious to their older siblings fighting. Everyone except Fink; a minute before she was absorbed in her video game, but now she was filming the fight with her cell phone, snickering.

“Fink?” asked Boxman.

“Yeah?” she replied, never taking her eyes off the robots.

“Do you know why I asked you and my children to accompany me on this important errand?”

“You dragged us out here, not asked. And yeah, you wanted our help to pick out a tux for the wedding ‘cause you’re too stupid to do it yourself.”

“Exactly! So why aren’t you or my robots helping me?!”

Fink shrugged. “Why don’t you ask boss?”

“Are you kidding? The husband isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding! It’s bad luck, for Cob’s sake!”

“But you’re both gonna be husbands? And he’d like you in anything. You could walk down the aisle in your underwear and he’d still marry you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I’d object it. I’m not gonna let you marry my boss like that!!”

“Then quit playing your games and HELP ME FOR COB’S SAKE!!”

Fink pouted but put her video game away anyway. “Alright, fine, cheese and rice.”

“Watch your language while you’re at it!”

“Says you! You’re not my boss!” She slid out of her chair and began to walk towards a rack of clothes.

“Not yet!” snickered Boxman.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” She pushed aside suit after suit, each covered in protective plastic. “You guys are going for a purple and green theme, right?”

“Purple, green, and evil! Mwahahaha!”

Fink furrowed her brow as she walked around, glaring at each suit on the dozens of racks. “All these suits are black or white! And way too small! Why don’t you just wear your old one? That stupid blue one you wore when you first met me and boss?”

“It’s blue! And old! And I…” Boxman’s edge softened, “I want this wedding to be...perfect. For both of us.”

“Don’t you need ‘something old, and something blue’ to a wedding anyway?”

Boxman pulled at his green crest of hair. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“What am I supposed to do? I’m a 6 to 11 year old kid!”

Boxman’s pencil-thin patience snapped under the constant weight of anxiety and frustration. Veins popped out of his skull, even imprinting through his metal plate. “That’s it! Screw you, screw my kids, and screw this! I’ll go find a wedding dress for all you care!”

“Let me know when you do, I’ll send a pic to boss!!”

“No, you won’t!”

“Aw c’mon!”

* * *

To Boxman’s utter surprise, the workers were nothing but helpful and supportive of helping him pick out a dress, even if it was for a joke. A girl explained that generally, the bride will pick out a dress or a few she likes, and then tries on oversized versions of them. Then the dress is pinned to see how it would look once tailored to her size. They repeat for each dress until the bride decides on a winner, and then the store orders a dress in your exact measurements. A more complicated process than Boxman expected, but he went along with it.

The first dress had the puffiest shoulders he had seen since the ’80s with beaded lace everywhere. He looked as bizarre as he felt, with the itchy beads scratching against his skin, getting stuck in his feathers.

The second dress looked as sleek as a satin bedsheet, lacking straps or flair. Though it was soft as silk and felt heavenly against his skin, the dress clung to his figure and made him look like an unflattering, shiny bowling ball. Also, the minimalism was rather plain--too boring for a -10 villain like himself!

The third dress had a white sash around the waist, with a gently ruffled skirt and a silver trim at the hem. Boxman ran his human hand over the fabric, a soft, smooth material. He actually didn’t feel silly in this dress, and when he looked at his reflection, he realized he...didn’t look as silly as he thought. 

Boxman was emersed with his reflection, tuning out the employee explaining the sash was customizable and could be any color he wished. The skirt swaying past his legs felt so light and the high waist accentuated his pecs. He giggled maniacally when he flexed his chest, seeing the dress shift accordingly and comically.

“Kids! Fink! Come look at this!” He yelled as he ran out of the dressing room barefoot, hiking his skirt as to not trip. Other patrons stared at him, an older gentleman running around in a bridal dress and barking, but didn’t dare speak up. No one even dared to film it on their phones.

Not long after his outburst, a horde of robotic teenagers clamored to the center of the store, where Boxman stood, shameless. Darrel arrived first, his eye going wide in awe at his daddy’s dress. Followed by Shannon toppling over him, followed by Raymond, until a pile of metal sat at Boxman’s feet. Fink walked around the pile, despite her eyes glued to the screen of her video game. Without looking up, she said, “What’s up, Boxbutt?”

“I don’t know, Fink, why don’t you look  _ up? _ ”

“Ugh, fi--Woah!” Her eyes bugged out of her face. Her jaw dropped as she dropped her video game. 

“Daddy! You look so  _ pretty!! _ ” said Darrel.

“Yeah! You look amazing!!”

“I must agree with Shannon. With just a few more touches, you’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world!”

“I am Jethro!”

Boxman’s grin widened, his cheeks flushed. Was this how it felt to be a ‘blushing bride’? “I know, right!” He spun, the skirt twirling with him. “Heh, I’m almost tempted to surprise PV with it on the big day.”

“You should, Daddy!” Darrel said. “We’ll help you! Like getting your bouquet!”

“And a veil!”

“And shoes!”

“I am Jethro!!”

Boxman stood still, the idea percolating in his mind, the excitement. “R-Really? You really think...PV would be okay if I surprise everyone with this?”

Fink ran up to him, clinging to the skirt of his dress. “You kidding me? He’d love it! He loves it when you dress up!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Honestly, I think he’s just glad you’re gonna dress up at all for the wedding.”

“Then what are we standing around here for?” Boxman cheered. “Darrel, Shannon, get me a purple sash! Raymon, get me some shoes! Fink, Jethro, grab me a veil!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“I am Jethro!”

“I call dibs on the biggest veil in here!”

* * *

Boxman gulped, tightening his grip on his bouquet of poisonous green and purple flowers. The bouquet was tied with a purple satin bow that matched the sash around his waist. He paced, the heels of his white pumps clicking against the polished hardwood floor. The veil covered his face, and he ran into a wall.

“Owch!”

“Lord Boxman?” asked Mr. Logic. He toyed with the bowtie around his skinny neck. “Are you alright?”

“Ow…’m fine, just hit my nose...Can’t see squat in this thing. How do brides do this?”

“According to my research, it is a practice in weddings to hide the bride’s face from her future spouse to surprise them at how beautiful she looks for the ‘big day’.”

“Hmph. Good thing you’re walking me down the aisle then.”

Mr. Logic smiled. “I am honored to do so, Lord Box--Oh! I believe its time!”

Boxman’s heart skipped a beat, grin widening. “Oh boy oh boy  _ oh boy… _ ” He felt Mr. Logic gently take his arm, his metal palm feeling cool even through Boxman’s long satin glove. Mr. Logic guided Boxman forward, past the entrance, and to the beginning of the aisle. Boxman heard gasps from the guests, and he chuckled. “Bet everyone’s staring at me, huh?” He whispered to Mr. Logic.

“They do appear rather surprised...Lord Boxman…” Mr. Logic sniffed.

“Aw, are you crying?”

“Forgive me, Lord Boxman...I’m just...so happy,”

“Save it for after you walk me down the aisle,”

Mr. Logic sniffled one more time and guided Boxman down the aisle. Though Boxman could hardly see through his veil, he could still make out the shape of the altar, Ernesto the officiator, and...Professor Venomous.

Boxman’s eyes watered, but he kept the tears from falling for now. Mr. Logic nudged him to turn and stand at the altar facing Venomous, then left his side. Now without his guide, Boxman let a single happy tear run down his face. At least Venomous couldn’t see it.

“Whatcha think, PV?” whispered Boxman. “Surprised?”

“...What do you mean?”

Boxman faltered. “Uh, what do I mean? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I can’t see you with this veil on, Boxy,”

“Uh, but I’m wearing the veil, not you,”

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

Ernesto suddenly cleared his throat. “Um, before we do the vows, may I, um, request that you two remove your veils? To clear up the confusion?”

“What are you talking about, Ernesto?” Boxman asked, shoving his veil out of the way. “I only got one veil—” Boxman didn’t finish his sentence. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

There he stood, Professor Venomous, the man and villain he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life. His makeup was impeccable, eyeliner jet black and sharp like cursive, while his black locks perfectly framed his freshly shaven face.

And there he stood, wearing a slender, floor-length gown of shimmering silk, like minuscule scales of a bejeweled snake. A string of pearls adorned his neck, matching the few pearls embroidered into his veil, attached to a crown of flowers, of green carnations and lilac violets.

“Puh-puh-Professor Venomous…” Boxy stared in awe at his beautiful, blushing husband to be.

“Lord Boxman…” he whispered back, in equal awe.

Then they snapped out of it and at the same time, barked the following;

“I thought you were wearing a suit!!”

The congregation burst into laughter. As their laughter echoed off the walls, the couple huddled closer.

“Well, it just...sorta happened that I found a dress I liked and wanted to surprise you!” Boxman looked at his bouquet, worrying his lip with his snaggle tooth. “Is, uh, that okay? Is this okay?”

Venomous kneeled to be at eye level with Boxman. “Oh, Boxy, of course, it’s okay. I’m rather impressed…”

“At how I had the balls to do it, or how good I look?”

“Both,” he chuckled. “I was just surprised. But that’s something you always manage to do, surprise me…” He cupped Boxman’s chin with his hand. “I just hope you don’t mind my choice in dress for our special day.”

“Are you kidding me? You look…” Boxman moistened his lips. “Gorgeous.”

“You’re making me want to kiss you before we say our vows,”

“Keep it in your pants until the honeymoon. Or your skirt, I guess.” he snickered.

Venomous snorted, then smiled, his eyes lighting up, tears of joy streaking down his face. “Good thing I’m wearing water-resistant eyeliner today.”

Boxman let his own floodgates of happiness open, too. “Me, too.”

They both looked at Ernesto, and he nodded. The congregation calmed down, ready for the exchanging of vows. Venomous stood back up, then held Boxman’s hands in his, smiling. Boxman smiled right back, giving Venomous’s hands a squeeze.

The villains could not wait for a second longer to become husband and husband.


End file.
